Enough
by hell-whim
Summary: Short ficlet set in TTT. MOVIEVERSE: Merry's thoughts when the Ents say no.


**Title:** Enough

**Author:** freak-pudding

**Summary:** Ficlet centered on TTT.  MOVIEVERSE- Merry's feelings when the Ents say no.

**Disclaimer:** These characters do not belong to me, and much of this is the property of New Line Cinema Films and JRR Tolkien.  No copyright infringement was intended.

**Author's Note:** Just a little drabble.  I decided that I need to get used to writing short scenes.  This one is trying to keep it under 500 words.

- - -

            I sigh, pulling on my coat in defeat.  It just isn't fair.  We came so far, tried so hard, and still we failed.

            _I_ failed.  And I just can't accept it.

            I hear your footsteps approach, and they still a few feet away.  I know that you feel the same disappointment I hold in, but you're better at getting over it.

            "Maybe Treebeard's right."

            But we both know he isn't.

            "We don't belong here, Merry."

            No, we don't.  But then again, Frodo doesn't belong in Mordor.  And Strider doesn't belong in Rohan.  But they're there.  And we're here.  And we have to fight.  For them.  We have to fight for them.

            "It's too big for us."

            So much of this world is, my dear Pippin.  What was it that Galadriel said to Frodo?  _Even the smallest person can change the course of the future._  We both know that no one will ever come to this forest again if Strider fails, and no one but the Ents can stop Saruman.  But we just weren't strong enough, I guess.

            "What can we do in the end?"

            Help our friends save the world, I should think.  But no.  We'll never be more than extra baggage I suppose.

            "We've got the Shire."

            I can hear the happiness, the longing swell like pent-up pride in your voice, and I close my eyes in disappointment.  Part of me can't believe that you still don't understand.  You're still so young, Pip.

            "Maybe we should go home."

            If it's even there when we get back.  And that's even _if_ we get back.

            "The fires of Isengard will spread," I say quietly. "And the woods of Tuck Borough and Buckland will burn."

            Tears spring into my eyes at this thought.  I can see it, Pip.  In my mind, I can see Brandy Hall engulfed in angry red flames.  I can see the Great Smials choked with ash and death.  I see Orcs and foul Men raiding the towns, killing and enslaving all that they find.  I see great smokestacks filling a dusty, dead horizon.  I… I see them cutting down the Party Tree.  And burning it.

            "And…" my voice catches on the agony I tried to hide.  I turn around, only to see the lingering hope in your eyes.  You don't believe me yet.  You don't really want to.  But you're beginning to realize the truth. "And all that was once green and good in this world will be gone."

            I reach out and grab your shoulder, squeezing it slightly.  I know it doesn't hurt you, not truly.  But you _need_ to understand.  I need you to know.

            The Gaffer's wrong.  This isn't just something that's happening to the other side of the world.  Saruman… the Orcs… they won't just stop at Rohan and Gondor.  They want our home, too.  And they'll take it.  Unless we stop them.

            "There won't _be_ a Shire, Pippin."

            I search your eyes for a moment before turning and walking away.  Maybe one day you'll understand.

            I tried.  I really tried.  And sometimes that's enough.  But today, it wasn't.

* 

**End Note:**  Dammit!  515 words.  Oh well, I'll try harder next time. Also, for those of you who have read my story "Sympathy", I'd like to inform you that I'm currently writing a companion piece to it.  Expect the first chapter next week Monday.  I'm looking for a beta-reader, too.  If you have a good grasp on grammar and spelling, and are pretty good with style and wouldn't mind helping me through writer's block sometimes, please apply!


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